


under a burnt orange canopy of autumnal leaves

by LittleAprilFlowers



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian is easily distracted, Fic or Treat Meme, Fluff, M/M, Skyhold celebrating some semblance of Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 10:50:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21196457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAprilFlowers/pseuds/LittleAprilFlowers
Summary: While the rest of Skyhold celebrates the coming of autumn, Dorian Pavus seeks out his amatus. Just a little feel-good ficlet for the Dragon Age Fic or Treat exchange, featuring Tristan Trevelyan. Enjoy!





	under a burnt orange canopy of autumnal leaves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Johaerys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johaerys/gifts).

Southern practices might always bemuse Dorian, he expects. The vast differences between countries like Ferelden and Orlais always managed to coalesce within Skyhold’s ancient walls, creating new traditions and celebrations with any excuse to distract in such a time of great conflict across the world beyond. Corypheus could be moments from descending upon their fortress in the mountains, but the children laughing as they carve toothy grins into gourds and startle one another draped in sheets would have you fooled that nothing is out of the ordinary at all.

Crowds have gathered in Skyhold’s main courtyard. Dorian spots a few familiar faces among them; Sera and Cole hand out candies apples and other treats to eager young hands, Blackwall distributes carved toys of monsters that would otherwise terrify at any other time, and Cassandra has taken a seat with older faces under a burnt orange canopy of autumnal leaves to hear tales of ghosts and fantasy. He notes the absence of one face in particular from the festivities, a face to which he has grown particularly attached of late. Where is the Inquisitor? While the rest celebrated the onset of colder wetter weather - bemusing indeed - Tristan is nowhere to be found.

A curious glance upwards answers Dorian’s question. A figure stands on the balcony of the tower which houses the Inquisitor’s private rooms. Passing the crowds, Dorian climbs the steps into the main hall of the keep, offering a passing wave to Varric - sat with a book at his usual place beside the fire - before he heads to the back of the hall. Here is the door to the Inquisitor’s stairs, the man himself only a short climb above.

Dorian stops at the door, his hand hovering inches from the handle. Could he ascend emptyhanded and arrive there uninvited? Of course he could, Dorian knew that. There were multiple occasions that he had delivered himself at Tristan’s feet and not once had he been turned away. Quite the opposite in fact; the Inquisitor had readily shown his gratitude for the visits in more ways than one. It ought to be shameful how easily Dorian finds himself drawn up those stairs.

Is it the way Tristan’s lips take such a tempting shape when he smiles, brought up at the corners and making his whole face glow with a radiance that shadows the sun? Perhaps it’s the way his lips feel when they trace patterns over Dorian’s skin, especially the more sensitive parts; the hollows of his throat, between his shoulders, the inside of his wrists, and at the inward curving of his hips. It could be his voice - calling Dorian’s name across a courtyard or in battle or whispered like a prayer when they come together in the dead of night.

Whatever it is that leads Dorian up those stairs without a second thought, no hesitation comes over him. What ought to be a strenuous climb causes him no discomfort or fatigue thanks to the boon which inevitably awaits him at the top of the tower.

Tristan turns as footsteps echo into his sanctuary, high above the rest of Skyhold. “I wondered how long it would take for you to come and find me.”

“It seems a shame for you to miss out.” Dorian replies, “There’s a lot going on down there. I can’t claim to understand all of it, but I’m of half a mind to investigate if you would join me? Perhaps you would have a better idea than myself of all the intricacies.”

“Perhaps I might. I’d like to know why Josephine had so many pumpkins delivered this morning.” Tristan admits. He crosses the room to take the arm Dorian offers him, and makes the most of their closeness to brush a feathery kiss across his cheek. 

Dorian laughs. His heart jumps in his chest at just the barest touch of Tristan’s mouth over his skin. Before he might have tried to conceal how much it affects him, but now he openly relaxes from the delicate gesture.

“Let’s go and see for ourselves, shall we?” he suggests, steering them both back towards the stairs. “You deserve to have some fun.”

“We both do.” Tristan insists, a knowing look in his eye that has Dorian’s already leaping heart racing in his chest. “But that shall have to wait until we’ve at least done the rounds, hmm?”

_ Amatus _ . Dorian never thought he find such a perfect feeling to match the word. But the warmth radiating from the man at his side, and the lingering sensation of a loving kiss on his cheek, affirms it firmly in his mind.


End file.
